


White Lace

by erikaehm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Panties, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikaehm/pseuds/erikaehm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s only wearing the panties. Erica had bought them for him as a joke – he’d once drunkenly mumbled about the wonders of lace – but the moment he’d seen them? He’d wanted to wear them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Lace

**Author's Note:**

> :x Ellie, look what you made me do.

He’s only wearing the panties. Erica had bought them for him as a joke – he’d once drunkenly mumbled about the wonders of lace – but the moment he’d seen them? He’d wanted to wear them. So now he is; they’re white, milkier looking than his skin, and they sit fairly right on his hips. He’s wearing them and lying on his belly, cheek pressed to the cool sheets below him. He’s left the window open a crack, and his skin prickles with gooseflesh at every sweep of the autumn breeze.

 

Stiles laughs, breathless, and turns his head a bit to nose at the covers. “Hi.” He murmurs voice thick with sleepy arousal. He’s been waiting here, like this – in his fucking panties, God, what if his dad had come in? – For well over three hours. Patiently. Which is something he’d never thought he would be capable of, ever.

 

Boyd clearly brings out the best in him. “Hi yourself.” He rumbles back, eyes flickering between gold and brown as he struggles for control. “What’s this?” Stiles can’t decipher the tone but it isn’t mocking, which sets his fluttering heart at ease. He shrugs into the bedspread, letting his eyes fall closed as the mattress dips beside him under the weight of Boyd pressing a knee there.

 

“I just...” He shrugs, again. “I liked it. Thought that you...”

 

Strong hands stroke down the naked flesh of his back, thumb dipping under the hem of the lace to swipe at the top of his crack. “I like.” Boyd replies, voice deepening with the wolf; with hunger. He sighs, a noise deep in his chest as he bends to snuffle along the line of Stiles’ neck. “A lot.”

 

Stiles recognizes that voice as much as the feel of fangs brushing the vertebrae at the top of his spine. He lets himself melt further, ‘becoming one with the bed’. His returns his head to its original position, cheek against the mattress. His eyes remain closed even as his lips part on a sigh.

 

He’s pliant, submissive, and it’s appealing to both man and wolf.

 

Boyd sets his hands low on Stiles’ back, thumbs biting into the dimples there. There’s a faint resistance, a tension that tells of stress, so he takes the time to work out the knots and ease away whatever troubles are running through his boyfriend’s eccentric mind.

 

Really, though, he only takes a minute; Stiles’ ass is a fantastic distraction in jeans or boxers, but in these white lace panties – not even a thong, Christ, just. Just white and lacy – it’s downright mouth-wateringly obscene. He bends his end to sink his teeth into the right cheek, grinning around the flesh when Stiles laughs in a startling flash of noise. He soothes the bite with his tongue, watching the lace get damp under his mouth.

 

He noses the lace to the side, finger wiggling under the elastic to press dry against Stiles’ hole.

 

Boyd’s heart skips a beat when he realizes that Stiles has _shaved_ and he eases the panties down over the swell of his ass so he can _see_. “Fuck.” And yes, that’s definitely more wolf than human. The world is going grey around him. “Stiles.” He croaks, knowing his worries will be heard.

 

Stiles hums instead, and his legs splay wider on the bed – as wide as they can, trapped the way they are. He’s watching Boyd with a half lidded eyed, dark caramel and trusting.

 

Boyd growls, once, and lowers his head. He’s never rimmed Stiles before, mostly because the boy likes to squirm, but right now he’s being _so good_ , lying still across the bed. He drags his tongue across the hole, gentle first, then harsher when it pulls a noise from Stiles that shoots heat right down to his cock.

 

It only takes a few minutes before he can slip a finger in beside his tongue; then another, and another, until Stiles is practically crying for it, trying to keep his lips still. The elastic on the panties is stretched to the point of being ruined, and Boyd thinks that he’s going to have to buy another pair. Yeah. He definitely has to get another pair.

 

“Where –“

 

 

“Here.” The lube is tossed over Stiles’ shoulder, hits Boyd in the chest. He bites back a laugh as he drizzles the cold slick onto his cock, hand leaving Stiles so he can work it onto himself, make the slide home easy.

 

He’s sunk balls deep when he sees that it isn’t going to last; he can already feel the tell-tale tremble of Stiles, muscled coiled when Boyd wraps his hands over his hips so he can rut into him like an animal.

 

The entire thing is painlessly short – all white-hot bliss and teeth marks, kisses pressed to bruises to ease the swelling down. Stiles comes first, mussing his sheets with sticky white; Boyd follows soon after, filling him so that when he rolls them over for Stiles to lay on _him_ rather than the other way around – Boyd has a good bit of weight on him, he’d crush his little lover otherwise – it oozes out, making Stiles blush.

 

Boyd rests his chin on Stiles’ shoulder, peering over him. The panties, stretched as they are, are pulled taut over Stiles’ thighs, leaving vicious red marks in their wake. He thumbs there, feeling his dick twitch where it’s still nestled deep, and he listens to the wrecked laugh it drags from the smaller of them.

 

They rest for a total of ten minutes before preparing for round two.


End file.
